Prologue-Pilatus:Mountain of Dragons

Disclaimer: Most of this belongs to JKR and Steven Reineke. And some jokes to the band kids. All I own are a very few characters and the idea to stick them in this situation.

Many, many thanks go to Yolanda and Incurable Romantic for reading this thing. Also to Mr. Malmberg for letting us play such a fun piece, to Ms. Merva for putting up with us, and to the trumpets (and Josh) for being yourselves.

Prologue-Pilatus:Mountain of Dragons

The early spring air whistled through the mountains, misty as the hot steam that rose from the nostrils of the sleeping serpents. The air was crisp and cold with the dying breaths of the harsh winter.The snowcapped hills that surrounded the tiny Swiss villages retained their soft, white blanket year round...except for one.

Pilatus: mountain of dragons steamed, gleaming red hot at the tip-even in the midst of the early March cold snap. Very few people had actually ever really known what the true cause of the glow was; no one had ever returned from numerous attempts over hundreds of years to ascertain the truth about the mountain. Was the heat and blaze caused by the earth's need to belch up its excess pressure and along with it tons of molten rock and ash? Or was it really, as legend suggested, that dragons had taken up permanent residence in the top of the old volcano, heating up the tip so much with their fiery breath that its glow lit the village at the foot of the mountain through the night? As far as the dragons were concerned, this was one question that would never be answered.

To call them dragons could be misleading. Only about four feet high, they more resembled drakes than actual dragons. The shape of their face suggested the evolutionary step between both species, a more pointed nose, smaller nostrils, almond-shaped rather than round eyes. But in their eating habits, preferred habitats, and, ahem, mating preferences, all pointed to them being more closely related to dragons than their smaller cousins. They could mate with larger dragons, though at the obvious risk of being injured in the process, and they seemed to prefer large animal flesh over the smaller mammals that the drakes hunted, eating horse flesh, cattle, even wolves and other predators rather than the rodents, birds, and smaller serpents that the drakes ate.

They preferred to have human flesh, of course, over all of these, if at all possible. But this love of human blood was not their most dangerous trait. That would have to be their tempers.

Oh boy, did they have tempers.

Being very territorial came from years of having to protect their interests from larger, stronger dragons, making them wiry little beasts that had not patience for explanations (if one could be understood by them, as in the case of Parselmouths), and no mercy in their slaughter of other beings. To come less than one hundred yards within their lair was to take one's life in one's hands. To come to within less than fifty yards was to put one's life in their hands.

They rather liked squashing it flat.

Only once had any human managed to actually defeat one of the dragons-a lucky strike that beheaded the fearsome beast- and he hadn't even made it to the next dragon. Rather, he was immediately doused in the serpent's blood, a highly acidic liquid that immediately burned the man's skin off and reduced him to what amounted to a mass of destructured protein and other goo. All other humans that dared enter the realm of these creatures never even made it to their first hit. Either they were immediately charred beyond recognition by the dragon's fiery breath or they were reduced to their constituent parts by the sharp claws and teeth of the mythical creatures.

In other words, these were not beings to be trifled with.

If one was able to peer beyond all of this while looking at the sleeping creatures, and if one was related to either Rubeus Hagrid or Charlie Weasley, one might almost, almost call them "cute" or "not quite so scary". If one was indeed either of these men, one would be entranced by the shining scales, the silver claws and teeth, and the dark, deep eyes. Either of them would call these beings "beautiful" or "gorgeous." Of them only one would brave the mountain and it's fury. Only the redhead waiting slack-jawed at the foot of the mountain would actually dare to go looking for them...